


candles

by ifreet



Category: Psych
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-30
Updated: 2009-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 10:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifreet/pseuds/ifreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's my party, and I'll handwave if I want to. (Also? I started this before "The Devil is in the Details... and the Upstairs Bedroom," but I think it explains a lot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	candles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifreet/gifts).



Looking back, the cold splash of water was probably a warning he was getting in over his head.

He'd been covertly watching Burton Guster from a semi-secluded booth in the corner. Columns, fake plants and a shifting, growing crowd must have obscured him from Gus's view, or he'd have never perched at the same end of the bar. Carlton knew he intimidated the man -- most of the time, he didn't care. But it had meant he'd never really seen Gus at ease.

Which he definitely was now, chatting amicably with people Carlton didn't know. He pointed to the man on his left, eyebrows expectantly raised, and the man said something that set the entire group to laughing. Open collars, pushed up sleeves, loosened ties... they must be coworkers from the pharmaceutical company. He sometimes forgot that Gus had an actual grown-up life apart from Spencer. Spencer was a flashing neon sign reading, "Look, look, look." He supposed it wasn't that surprising that Gus got overlooked, though it was disconcerting that _he_ might overlook anyone, and he tallied another mark against the distraction that was Shawn Spencer. The thing was, Gus shone pretty brightly in his own right, if you were paying attention.

And that's when his date -- a friend of O'Hara's -- dumped her water glass on him and stormed out.

It wasn't the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him -- the Incident with the Fighting Badgers mascot (arrests: 1, written apologies: 5) and his Bachelor Party (arrests: 6, abject apologies: 1) were both pretty far ahead on that list -- but for preference, he'd much rather have been in a bar where he knew no one. Or at the very least, where no one knew him and Spencer both, because as heads turned towards the commotion, he knew -- _knew_ \-- he'd be living this moment down for months. Possibly for years. He mopped at the spreading damp patch on his shirt ineffectually with paper napkins and hoped anyway.

"Detective Lassiter?"

_Years_. He hid a flinch, then looked up to meet Gus's gaze steadily. "Mr. Guster," he replied flatly.

His powers of intimidation must have been shorted out by the water, because Gus actually came over instead of retreating. "Thought that was you. Bad night, huh?" Carlton scowled, but Gus didn't give him time to answer, leaning in slightly to say, "Just go with me here, okay?"

He placed a hand on Carlton's shoulder, placating or maybe for balance; it felt warm through his shirt. "Go with what?"

The hand squeezed and released, and then Gus was straightening away from Carlton. "Something I picked up from Shawn -- if you just act like everything's normal, people stop caring."

Carlton glanced around, and it was true -- he was no longer the center of speculative attention. Gus made a complex signal at someone behind the bar and a moment later was catching a clean, white bar rag. Gus didn't even _like_ him. "Thanks."

He flashed a brief, surprised smile as he handed the rag over. "No problem."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smile stuck with him, but he told himself it was simple gratitude that prompted him to invite Gus out to dinner later that week. He asked at the station, because that seemed more spontaneous and less likely to turn awkward than a phone call. He made sure not to ask in front of Spencer, because he'd surely have invited himself along, and Carlton wasn't _that_ grateful.

He hadn't entirely expected that Gus would say yes, but he did.

He hadn't exactly expected that it would go well, but it had.

He certainly hadn't expected that the dinners would become a regular thing, but they did.

And when their regular thing turned into something more, that exceeded his expectations, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Seriously, you should probably go," Gus said.

Carlton gave the suggestion the full consideration it deserved. Fifteen minute drive versus sleeping here in comfort? No contest. "Mmph," he replied.

Gus made a half-hearted push at his shoulder that turned into a stroke part-way through. He placed his hand over Gus's and started to drift off.

"Car-l-ton." Gus turned his name into three distinct syllables. His whole life, that'd meant trouble.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand. "Why?"

"Shawn has this bad habit of letting himself in in the morning."

"Oh," he said. And then he started thinking it through to the conclusions.

Oh. He hadn't really thought about it, the way they'd been sort of sneaking around. At first, there hadn't been anything to hide, and after, well, he'd always exercised discretion in discussing his personal life. But he hadn't been _hiding_ Gus, either.

He wasn't sure when he'd gotten used to being someone's dirty secret, but he didn't like it.

"Okay," he said as he sat up and threw off the sheet.

Gus stopped him with an arm around his chest and muttered something unflattering against the back of his neck, before propping his chin on Carlton's shoulder. "Look, Shawn is..." There was a pause which Carlton didn't fill in with any of the adjectives springing to mind as he debated getting up and leaving anyway. "Shawn is Shawn," Gus finally said. "He's my best friend, but he can also be a giant pain in the ass."

"I hadn't noticed," Carlton said dryly. Gus poked him in the ticklish spot below his ribs.

"Particularly when he thinks I'm dating someone. _Anyone_," he added, giving Carlton a thoroughly undeserved Look.

He shut his mouth anyway.

"I've been trying to keep him off track, but he's going to figure it out eventually, so... if you're ready to deal with Shawn -- and I mean really ready -- stay." Gus's arm tightened in a not-entirely-intentional embrace. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

And maybe he should have put some thought into that -- into the warning itself or Gus's need to warn. But he had Gus's arm around him, and Gus didn't care if Spencer knew, only if _he_ cared if Spencer knew. He turned his head just the slightest bit more and kissed Gus over his shoulder -- a little awkward, but worthwhile -- and lay back down.

~~~~~~~~~

(Despite Gus's dire prediction, Spencer did not turn up unannounced in the morning. Nor the morning after that, nor any of the subsequent mornings spent at Gus's -- though they spent more nights at Carlton's, because even with the "seriously, very creepy" case board in the living room, Gus looked less spooked there.

He was never quite sure what gave them away, actually. He just knew that Spencer knew -- because Gus was right, Spencer had whole reserves of obnoxiousness that Carlton had not previously witnessed. And during the Agatha Brontus death investigation, he attained new levels of rude, dismissive and irritating-- and, naturally, because this was his life, proved irritatingly right. The saving grace was that Gus looked at least as pissed as Carlton felt -- and turned up at the station alone afterwards, offering take-out and beer and implied making-out on the couch, and that was worth almost any amount of putting up with Spencer.)


End file.
